My Little Fortress: Friendship for the Blood God
by Scallop42
Summary: A dwarf finds himself in a new land after falling into a glowing pit. After miraculously floating in an ocean that he happens to splash down into, he is rescued by his race's ancestral non-civilizing enemy. Will he ever learn what has happened to his fortress? Will he overcome the tragedy that befell him in his past?
1. Prologue for a Slaughter

Prologue for a slaughter

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been very unhappy recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has had a mediocre drink recently. He has looked at a masterful engraving of his family and been saddened. He has slept in a decent Alder bed recently. He has complained about the inclement weather recently. He has been angered at his conscription recently.

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work. He is not self-conscious. He is reserved.

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

Tholumom stars into his mug of ale. The ale is utterly tasteless. _Another mediocre drink from the workshop of Addortalin Nuggadogon._

He looks around the bar, dwarves are legitimately happy here. He keeps to himself, the pain of his life would only make the others unhappy.

"Tholumom, Get over here! You are on active duty!"

Tholumom grumbled into the ale, not even the omniscient narrator could make out what he said. "Now what?"

"You don't need to know to get into uniform."

"I _am _in uniform you idiot."

"I am your commanding officer."

"You? Ha! I've had more experience than you, and all I've done is fight a few hundred cubic-meters of rock and dirt." Tholumom smiled when he said this. There was enough of a grudge between him and this other dwarf Urist... whatever it was it translated into ass licker.

"This time it is actually serious."

"So we won't be doing something pointless for a noble who doesn't need protection from moths?"

"Well... No, we aren't doing that."

"Good."

Tholumom looked at the other dwarf, Urist, his beard was braided tightly enough to be a hazard if cut. he began to talk, interrupting the possibility of doing such a thing. "You don't want the incidents of three years ago to be repeated."

Tholumom's face became bright red, not the happy-drunk red- the angry-drunk red. "Don't talk about that! I'm done with that."

"Unless you want that to happen again, get your ass down to the Admantine tube. We need to be on guard, if we aren't demons will break through and kill the fortress, every single dwarf that lives through that will have the same terrible experience as you."

His eyes narrowed on Urist. "You don't know what that experience was."

"I can gather that it isn't pleasant."

"You have no idea. I'll go."

Tholumom finished off the mug, the barrel, and then another barrel for good luck, after all, combat could cause dehydration.

Urist led him through the staircases that merged and diverged through the entire fortress. The sterilized, once dangerous cavern system, they passed a few legendary dining halls, and the minecart system used to deliver the heavy stones throughout the fortress from their original resting places in the newly mined out sections.

The fortress seemed to go on forever, it went down to the mantle of the earth itself, not that that made it particularly impressive. The pits of hell were just a few meagre Z-levels beneath them, and there was the true prize, Slade.

Slade was even harder to obtain than admantium, if the fortress received a commission for admantium, then Slade would certainly mean true, lasting greatness.

There was a catch for either of the metals or stones. The entire legion of hell would have access to the fortress.

The others in the massive squad were brandishing their war-axes, Tholumom grasped his hammer. The events of three years ago brought back bad memories whenever he used a war-axe.

When he stepped into the line, the commander decided that his nobleness would give a speech on the goal of today's engagements.

"You idiots are going to keep the demons back while we build flooring over the pits, preventing them from getting in."

It was the shortest speech that anyone there had ever heard, for anything, at this fortress, or another. Either way, the troops were rendered speechless by this lazy oratory. The sub-commander walked up the the commander and whispered to him.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT I SHOULD GET OUT OF PUBLIC SPEAKING?"

more whispering.

"Whatever, you, miners, get on with this BS."

"Shouldn't we have some cage-traps set up? Just in case we fail?" Tholumom said.

"Nah, we can't possibly fail."

Tholumom waited for the ceiling to collapse, but, unfortunately, that was too easy.

The hammering of pickaxes on stone continued for hours. Finally, something crumbled. A horrible stench rose up from outside the crack. The commander woke up from his nap. "Masons, get on that job!"

The masons arrived quickly, and began to build a staircase down to the floor of hell.

"Attack, Charge, Charge!"

The group gave a roar. Dwarven roars are known to resemble the mating call of many of the variety of demons in hell, including number 53 and 41.

Unfortunately, the other demons follow those two types around, meaning that 1 through 53 would come.

Tholumom was the last dwarf left in hell. The others had either fled, or died. Even now, he swung his silver hammer at the 53s and 41s, they flew into the slade walls, exploding into gore. Inside his head, he could hear nothing but the thoughts relevant to battle. This cognitive process was known widely as the Martial Trance; and was often heralded as the final advantage that dwarves had over the other races.

The demons continued to flow towards him. A 32, made entirely out of tentacles grabbed him, throwing him into the pit. The martial trance broke once he realized that he was falling.

The strange glow of the eerie pit illuminated him as he fell. Darkness never came... No, there was light.

The light grew brighter and brighter. Soon it was daylight again. There were no demons to be found. Needless to say, after seventeen long weeks underground, this was not an easy transition for Tholumom to make. As the atmosphere began to blue with the natural absorption spectra of oxygen and nitrogen, he began to vomit from the fear, the exposure to natural light. Soon there was moderately sized vomit sphere moving with him. This fact bothered him slightly less than the fact that he had just fallen into the infinite depths of the earth to emerge in the upper atmosphere. Unfortunately, to his knowledge, none of the dwarves that have managed to fall from such a height survived; they had a tendency to explode on impact.

The world beneath him began to resolve itself out of fog. An ocean, or a lake. Either way, Tholumom was pleased to see it. "I remember swimming as a child... My father had to throw me into the pond. I was lucky that I didn't drown." he thought to himself. His skills were rusty; the plight of so many dwarves, so few used a large number of skills; they were built to work in a single system, a place where they only needed to work at one job at a time, nothing else had to be known in order to survive. They weren't an ant colony; they could learn more professions than one, but that meant more work than they needed to do.

Of course, Tholumom thought to himself, if he survived, then he would have to learn a lot of skills to last more than a day or two. He grimaced, that did not sound like much fun. he was rusty in everything, including mining. The last few years had not been kind, but admittedly, they were still nicer than the sensation of slamming into the water.

The water was fresh, cool, and unlike at home, it made no attempt to smash him into a wall. Seagulls flew overhead, it was peaceful.

This was mostly due to the fact that the dwarf in leather armor was unconscious, floating facing towards the sky, completely unaware of the beasts that swam beneath him.

Not that the beasts really mattered; they were a rather distant bunch of aquatic beasts, scary-sure, dangerous-not particularly, willing to get involved with this strange creature—most certainly not. So the dwarf just floated there; his center of buoyancy just happened to be encouraging his metabolic processes to continue unabated, and not to assume that he was going to drown. Metabolic processes are a psychosomatic bunch, so the encouragement pretty much guaranteed that he was alright. But this isn't about those metabolic processes, is it? Well… Okay, so if they are okay, then we have a story, regardless of how stupid it might be.

Needless to say, the dwarf was rescued. No, there were not a bunch of benign merpeople trying to help him back to land(which was probably a good thing due to the genocidal habits that dwarves developed in response to the high price that goods made out of their bones engendered). That was probably fortunate, because Tholumom had not heard about how the price crashed after every single fortress expanded towards their sea in order to harvest the merpeople's bones, thus he would find a perfectly good reason to start that practice over again here.

No, he was rescued by something that he would find even more detestable: a purple unicorn.


	2. The Unicorn Effect

The Unicorn Effect

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been very unhappy recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has had a mediocre drink recently. He has looked at a masterful engraving of his family and been saddened. He has slept in a decent Alder bed recently. He has complained about the inclement weather recently. He has been angered at his conscription recently. He has been frustrated with his failure in combat recently.

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work. He is not self-conscious. He is reserved.

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

His nose is broken. His arms are bruised. His hand is bruised. His legs have gashes.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

* * *

The dwarf slept in a bed, catatonic, except of course for the involuntary retreating into his mind, he was of course, completely unconscious; the natural response to dwarves in pain was always to faint, and for once, that probably saved him a lot of heartache.

As far as he was concerned, he had been saved by one of the vilest animals in existence: the unicorn. Unicorns, those disgusting horses ridden into battle by those damned tree hugging elves. The same unicorns that were known to use their horn to skewer the unsuspecting dwarf in all of their righteous goodness.

This creature, whose similar looking relatives of Tholumom's world, had been the only creature to bloody the misfortunate and stupid dwarven settlers who had sought to avoid evil, by moving to its antithesis. The other creatures of the "righteous" or "good" regions of the world were far less dangerous to the fortress. The unicorn was the only creature of that region that was known to really scare the dwarves, who continued to hunt it, because of the value of their bones.

The world of the dwarves had been quite dangerous after all, motivated by profit and the whims of gods who refused to respond to any adventurer with the faith to really try talking to them. Fortunately, Tholumom had never believed in the first place. His late wife had worshipped a god known as the "Flying Trout" who was associated, or so they said, with gold, silver, mountains, and fertility. Whatever connection that a flying fish had to do with any of those things was anyone's guess. It had given her comfort, and that was no help to him when he was unconscious.

* * *

Twilight, as the unicorn was called, was surprised to have found any creature so far out in the water. The fish were a bunch of pussies, not that she would refer to them as such; she would probably say that they have a highly tuned sense of "Self-preservation". She was even more surprised to find that this thing was still alive, whatever it was just so happened to float in such a way that it could breathe.

A creature such as that, which can fully pass out in water and live, was pretty special, even in a land filled with three whole races of magical multi-colored horses. So Twilight had decided to take the obvious land-dweller back with her on the boat.

The expedition so far had been a resounding failure. Nothing that they could make was able to descend to the bottom of the ocean and survive. Even Twilight's magic seemed completely ineffective for gathering information about what was really down there. This creature, whatever it was, was far more interesting than the failure of all of the bathyspheres which Twilight had managed to either get her hooves on or conjure.

"Spike, any word from Celestia?"

"Yeah Twilight. She says, and I quote 'Why did you stop studying friendship? Get back to Ponyville."

"Did you send her the letter I wrote ahead of time for when she said that?"

"Yes Twilight, she sent me the same letter except 'get back to Ponyville' was underlined." The purple dragon glanced over to the creature that lied in bed, barely breathing. "Is he going to be alright, Twilight?"

"I hope so Spike. He's injured, but as far as I can tell, there's nothing life threatening about the injuries."

"Have you figured out what he is yet? Twilight?"

"No Spike, you'll be the second to know when I do."

"So are we going to listen to Celestia?"

Twilight gave the small dragon a look of exasperation, "Of course we listen. I wouldn't want to go back to-"

"Magic Kindergarten." Spike groaned. "You have to understand that not every failure can send you back to that place. In fact, no failure will send you back to that place. The only place where they can send you is maybe back to the same grade that you were in when you failed."

"You don't know that." Twilight's eyes almost started twitching, which signaled that Spike either needed to accept his "sister's" insanity, or press on and accept the consequences.

"I've read that damned book about the Equestrian School system. Of course I know that! Celestia is a nicer teacher than most, not to mention that she is _your_ teacher, not anypony else's. She only teaches you. She can put whatever emphasis you need on whatever subject you don't understand. She won't make you go crazy."

"Spiiike!"

"What?"

"No." Twilight had picked that one up from Rainbow Dash. It was the most annoying way that anypony could think of to turn around a conversation and generally peeve that pony.

"Whatever Twilight. I'll just go tell Captain Gruff to turn us around and bring us back to Ponyville."

"That's probably a good idea. Too bad, I guess I'll have to accept knowing more about the surface of friendship than the bottom of the ocean." She sighed. "There's probably not much down there in the first place."

"Why would you want to know about the bottom of the ocean in the first place?"

"I thought that I could learn something about what was down there that nopony had ever known or seen before. I guess you're right though, the magic of friendship has to be more interesting than the bottom of the ocean."

"I'm going to tell Captain Gruff to turn us around."

"Good idea Spike, thanks for your help."

With that, the small purple dragon with green frills left the cabin. Twilight sighed, "I guess that we'll just have to wait to learn about you." She said this to the creature in the bed, which lied asleep. The mouth drooped open, exposing its prodigious size. "Dear Celestia. What are you?" The mouth was big enough to trap a scootaloo. Not that the owner of the mouth would necessarily do that. She hoped.

* * *

Inside of Tholumom's body, epithelial cells reproduced quickly to overcome the wounds that were sustained. In his hands, veins knitted themselves back together. In his nose, cartilage began to produce scar tissue, ensuring that it would look slightly wrong for the rest of his life.

His liver was beginning to notice a lack of alcohol to digest; naturally this would be what would awaken the dwarf.

His eyes fluttered open, revealing a blurry room. He noticed the sunlight in the room and thought _"not again",_ before throwing up. The vomiting actually served to shake his eyes back to working order.

Tholumom was in a wooden room, with wide, clear windows. It was clear that he had been adopted by a prosperous civilization, probably funded by the various pieces of armor that goblins often left behind after their deaths. There was something that was missing; the stains of blood on the walls, the omnipresent smell of vomit and feces. The elves, who believed in latrines and baths, were not as clean as this. Not to say that the elves aren't a bunch of hypocritical cannibals, they were still the cleanest creatures that he had ever met.

Then he noticed what it was built out of… Wood. The association that it brought to every dwarf's mind was the same capricious cannibal traders known as the elves. He frowned, if he had been adopted by humans, his life would not be too bad, if they was elves, then he might as well eat himself right now. Of course, if it was elves, it would be some kind of damned tree house. He relaxed; nothing the elves built was made with the kind of care or material that resembled planks. He looked out the window, seeing a branch with a multitude of bird nests on it. Tholumom was not sure, but birds didn't nest at such high densities, at least no kind of bird which he had ever laid eyes on.

* * *

The dwarf put his hands behind his head, relaxing for the first time in a few months.

* * *

"Spiike! Did you send Celestia our apology letter?"

"Yes Twilight, She already said that it was okay."

"That's good." She paused. Tholumon thought that she sounded like a nice girl, perhaps human, but certainly not of his age group, at most she was sixteen years old. He couldn't wait to meet his rescuer… What kind of name was Spike though? That sounded strange, even to a dwarf whose first name means "Deep dark" or maybe "dark deep" either way he couldn't remember how the old ancestral dwarven language worked. "Perhaps you should check on our guest, I mean, after Fluttershy patched him up, he should be fine."

For some reason, the name "Fluttershy" sounded appropriate and normal, not like Spike, whose name only had one syllable. _"Maybe I should meet this Fluttershy, I'm sure that she's a nice girl. Though that Spike character sounds very annoying. Twilight sounds nice too. Maybe I won't be interrogated when she realizes that I've woken up."_

The door across the room opened to reveal the purple dragon standing there. _"I love dragons, they always amused me when the beast-master or whatever his title was trained one to barbecue the goblin infantry._"

"Hi there mister."

"Hello there purple dragon. It's a long way from the mountainhome to see such a specimen as you."

"What's a mountainhome?"

_"Damn, I might actually have to elaborate on where I lived." _"It's a mountain filled with dwarves, gold, wealth, and vomit, especially vomit."

"That sounds disgusting."

"Yes, but who trained you to speak so well? I've never heard of such an incredible beast-master that was able to teach a dragon to talk. The best I've seen have only managed to train the dragon to barbecue elves and goblin infantry."

"What?"

"You certainly can't talk on your own. You must have been trained at some point?"

"I've only been toilet trained, if that's what you mean. I learned how to talk on my own."

"What's a toilet?"

"With one, you would have had a vomit-free mountainhome."

"That's impossible, we would have found a way of vomiting in such a way to make it ineffective."

"Why would you search for that?"

"That's the drinking game that dwarves play whenever they are about to pass out."

"That sounds unhealthy."

"Doctors have told us that, at least human doctors have. They never did have the body chemistry to process large volumes of alcohol."

"I'm afraid for your health mister."

"I've drunk more than enough to kill you a thousand times over. I'm not even a heavy drinker."

"I'm going to get Twilight."

"Thank you lad, I've been wanted to talk to her, I gather that she rescued me from the ocean?"

"Yes." With that short answer, the dragon walked out.

"I can't believe he fell for that drinking game. We throw up because our eyes are adjusted to absolute darkness. Not because we can't hold our drinks."

Tholumon laughed. It pleased him to have landed so far from the ridiculous insecurity of his world. Of course, what walked through the door was a creature of unimaginable horror. A creature that he had been taught to fear for its pointy horn, its scary eyes, and the ferocity which it can attack with unprovoked.

It was the Unicorn.


	3. The Terror of the Dwarves

The Terrors of the Dwarves

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been very unhappy recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has had a mediocre drink recently. He has looked at a masterful engraving of his family and been saddened. He has slept in a decent Alder bed recently. He has complained about the inclement weather recently. He has been angered at his conscription recently. He has been frustrated with his failure in combat recently. He has been terrified by a unicorn recently

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work. He is not self-conscious. He is reserved.

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

His nose is broken.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

* * *

The unicorn advanced to him. It was _purple_, not even the most terrifying stories of his elders had a _purple_ unicorn.

"Hi there, are you okay?" The unicorn asked him. The dwarf had broken into a cold sweat.

Tholumon gasped at his belt, the warhammer had been removed, along with the pickaxe. In fact, he was naked. This fact only bothered him because he shared a room with a horse with a piercing weapon on its forehead.

"Stay away from me you monster!"

"What? I saved you. Why don't you trust me?"

"Your kind has butchered my family, killed my livestock, and destroyed entire societies with the dangerous point on your forehead." He picked up the nightstand. "I will destroy you!"

He jumped off the bed. The unicorn did not move. "AHHHHHH!"

"NOPE!"

He stopped midair.

"I can see that you are clearly not ready to meet me. I hope that our next meeting will not end this way. Goodbye."

With that she left the room.

The purple dragon came back, "I see that the meeting didn't go well."

"Yeah. You seem to be right there, buddy."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll know when you are older."

"Okay then…"

The purple dragon left the room, leaving the magically levitating dwarf to manage his nightstand weapon in peace.

* * *

The next day the purple unicorn returned. "I see that you have not tried to fall yet."

"That was an option?"

"No, but I'm glad to see that you are still alive, especially after not eating or drinking for several weeks."

"That is the constitution of my race." The dwarf said, smiling. "I'm sorry about yesterday. Care to start over?"

"Fine with me, just put the nightstand down where it was yesterday, and I'm sure that we'll be great friends in no time." The Unicorn sounded somewhat sarcastic.

"You must see, madam, or is it lady? Either way I'm sorry about confusing you for the creatures with the same horn in my world. Those blasted horses."

"I'm a pony." The statement hung in the air. Conflicting greatly with the typical didacticism that Twilight normally spoke with.

"Where I come from, a pony is but a breed of horse that is smaller than the wild steed."

"You aren't where you came from."

"Fair enough, but what evidence do I have that this is not the road to the gods? That this is not merely the afterlife as promised by the priests of the Flying Trout?"

"Since when does a Flying Trout have priests?"

"Since around the year 62 of my world, dear. When the Flying Trout first took his form among mortal dwarves, and gave them hope for their salvation in his worship. Of course, I was never the kind to worship a god who refused to reply, so I let my practices slide a bit."

"What kind of god would refuse to answer to their subjects?"

"All of them. The flying trout, the demon of the goblins, of course, they also have a demonic deputy, giving, if anything, more credence to their purpose. But the greater question is, what kind of god do you have, what gives him or her the right to talk with their subjects?" The dwarf laughed. "You must be kidding me. A god that actually talks with their subjects?"

"Yes, in fact I'm her chosen student" the unicorn gestured towards herself with a hoof. She was clearly proud of herself.

"What kinda fortress are ye running here?" The dwarf's eyebrows furrowed. "Where there can be people who are actually students by profession? That seems a bit strange doesn't it?"

"Not really. I've been Celestia's chosen student since I was a filly." She closed her eyes for a moment, either remembering something or hiding from the dwarf's reaction. "Besides, this isn't a fortress, this is a town, a town called Ponyville."

"Wow really abstract name there dear. My own fortress was called 'The Ideas of Mourning'" he sighed before muttering something about how the fortress had little but sadness.

"Did it really have all that much mourning?" Twilight's face saddened at this.

"Not really. I was the only one who felt it. Five of my friends died, my wife and daughter perished in an invasion. I'm the only one who felt all that.

"That sounds awful."

"You can't even imagine, my little purple pony-horse."

The glow of the magic cut out, leaving Tholumom to fall to the floor.

"Why did I scare you?"

"You heard what I said about unicorns killing my civilization's hunters, right?"

The unicorn nodded. "Yeah, our most disliked 'allies', the elves, ride them into battle against us when they believe that we have committed a crime against nature by chopping down trees. They pierce us with their horns, leaving many to die in their wake. All for a little timber" He laughed, "But of course, looking at you more closely, you are not that kind of unicorn. Your horn is not particularly sharp, you are purple, and you have a mane that resembles what a little girl of my world would have as a haircut." He paused looking at the semi-stunned state of the unicorn before him. "Which compliments your freakishly large eyes very well by the way."

"I've never seen another pony act that violently. I've also never seen an felf riding another pony into battle."

"That would be a good thing my dear, for the elves are the only race that doesn't worship a demon that persists in the practice of eating their enemies."

Twilight was once again stunned. "Are- are you serious?"

"Unfortunately Miss..?"

"Twilight Sparkle"

"Miss Sparkle, I am completely serious. Of course, they never seem to realize that we have quite a few traps set up to murder them if they are aggressive." Twilight blinked at the word murder.

"Kill them if they are trying to kill you, doesn't that sound somewhat extreme?"

"Not really. We enjoy our life, and whether or not we choose to use the equally inexpensive and effective cage trap is none of their concern. They'd die anyway… If in a hundred or so years."

"How are you so immune to death?"

"Its pretty easy when you see people die around you every day. It doesn't hurt any less when it's a friend, or lover… most dwarves can absorb the pain in seeing at least three loved ones die before they go crazy." Tholumom grimaced. "Now I think I've talked enough. I'm actually quite thirsty, and hungry."

"Would you like hay sandwiches?"

"What?"

"Hay as in-"

"For horses. I'm an omnivore. I guess I can understand you ponies not being omnivores, but I am."

"Well, I'd appreciate if you didn't act on your omnivorous urges while you are here. Of course, we do have eggs."

"Yes, you are a female, thus you have eggs. Unfortunately that doesn't help me figure out what I'm going to eat."

"You can eat eggs from a chicken."

"I wonder why I assumed that you were talking about the other kind of egg. Anyway, that sounds good. After all, I'm not part of my old civilization, so my values should adjust to meet the civilization that I am in."

"You're saying that like it will be easy." Twilight rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's see if I can't make you something edible out of an egg." She started out of the room.

"I'm never going to get used to that voice from a horse." Tholumom said to himself.

"I'm not a horse!" Twilight groaned.

_"Definitely going to take a long time to become used to this. I wonder where they brought my hammer and pickaxe to?"_


	4. Parties

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been very unhappy recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has had a mediocre drink recently. He has looked at a masterful engraving of his family and been saddened. He has slept in a decent Alder bed recently. He has complained about the inclement weather recently. He has been angered at his conscription recently. He has been frustrated with his failure in combat recently. He has been terrified by a unicorn recently. He has eaten a decent omelet recently. He is thirsty

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work. He is not self-conscious. He is reserved.

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

When he is angry, his hands clench into fists. When worried, he tends to use threats often.

His nose is broken.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

* * *

"And that's how Equestria was made." The pink pony said to the dwarf.

"I must learn how you grew rocks. If I was at home, my people would love to know how."

The omelet was enough to sate the dwarf's hunger. Spike prepared it on a relatively normal stove-top, similar to the kitchens at home. The kitchen; however was larger, and contained an area for eating, not that dwarves really used their dining rooms, a simple chair would do, or perhaps even just standing over the barrel in the stockpile as they ate whatever they found to their liking. The dwarf sat at the table, in a chair that was frilly, beyond the aesthetic frivolity of the elves, but made well enough for the dwarf to justify sitting on it. Across from him the pink pony slouched over the table, examining him.

"Silly, that doesn't work in other worlds."

"What?"

"Rock farming only works in Equestria."

"That's too bad. It would do great services for my people." The dwarf sighed. "We are the most skilled masons, blacksmiths, and craftsmen in my world, we can make almost anything; we are limited only in time and resources. We make things that last forever, but we make things of impacable beauty and complexity. Our artifacts-"

"What're those? They sound like they taste good." The pink pony bounced around a lot. Tholumom wondered if she was one of those creatures whose strength could never be exhausted.

"No." The dwarf wore a scowl. "Eating an artifact, unless it was an artifact meal, would get you killed by any reasonable dwarf."

"That's silly." She laughed. "If everypony was that stern, then we wouldn't have any fun around here, not even in one of my famous parties."

"I'd love to attend one of those. Do you hold them in legendary dining room?"

"What would make a dining room legendary?"

"The worth of everything in the room would cumulatively be worth somewhere around ten thousand copper coins."

"Well… I don't know how many bits there are to a copper coin, but I'm sure that we have at least a grand dining room."

"Pinky, I never explained the degrees of worth to a room's worth, how did you figure that out?"

The purple unicorn walked in to the kitchen, "Don't ask that of Pinkie. The answer eludes the bet of us, and drove me mad for a while."

"As in throwing a tantrum, or melancholy?"

"I would not know the difference."

"Silly, a tantrum would involve you lashing out at other ponies and their property, you're still around, and haven't thrown yourself into a water filled ditch, so you weren't melancholy."

Twilight's mouth gaped open. Tholumom laughed. "Pinkie, I don't even care that you seem to have knowledge about my world. I love you, you funny pony." Tholumom had heard stories about the seers of elves, not good stories, but stories that testified to their extensive foreknowledge of the events of the future. Naturally, elvish seers never told anyone anything helpful, but they divined what had happened to people who visit them. This is, oddly enough, the only stable source of income that elves have ever managed to wrangle. "Are you sure that you aren't an elvish seer?"

"Yes I am silly. I'm an earth pony."

"I know, I know, but you know about the future, and the nature of the world that I come from."

"That's my Pinkie Sense."

"Sounds useful."

Twilight broke in again. "You have no idea. The entire town listens to her arbitrary warnings that really don't shed any light on the nature of the prediction."

Tholumom looked at her strangely, "You don't seem like the type to accept that kind of superstition. Or at least if those questions you were getting to were any indication of who you actually are, you like to know things."

"I'm a student of Celestia. Of course I have to ask questions, but mostly I study magic."

Grinning proudly at the dwarf, the dwarf found himself uncomfortable. "You aren't a necromancer are ye? That kind of magic doesn't deserve the study that they put into it."

"No, of course not. I wouldn't dare mess with the cycle of life and death."

"Good, if you were a necromancer, your skull would make a wonderful totem. I'm glad that I don't have to do that to my rescuer." The dwarf's expression morphed back into a smile as he expressed his gladness that Twilight was, not, in fact learning how to bring back legions of the undead to haunt the living. The pink pony continued to smile throughout the explanation, despite the obvious threat to her friend.

"What is this fixation on death and punishment?" Twilight was, naturally, concerned after the aforementioned threat. "I mean, your world can't possibly be that harsh."

"No, it's far worse. If you disappoint the nobility, ye would be hammered into either a terrible death, or near death. Our medicine can be useful, but due to the continual plight of the soap-makers, you are almost certain to die of an infection from the wounds of your hammering. All because the nobility forgot that the fortress was not situated in an area where glass isn't possible to obtain."

Tholumom's face glowed bright red. His hands clenched into fists, almost as though he desired to fight. "Besides, who are you to judge our culture; I don't know what the situation is like in Equestria, but in the world of the Everlasting Pulley, you can't imagine the kinds of challenges that my race has to deal with on a daily basis. Perhaps it is our fault; nevertheless, we have lived like this for nearly four thousand years." Faltering, his voice began to fall. "And perhaps, with our ways, we've finally caused our end." Finally hitting a whisper "But that doesn't matter to me, what I had perished… long before…"

"Are you okay?" Twilight was concerned for the dwarf, she still wanted to know more before he went "Melancholy" and threw himself into the Everfree river.

"Aye. I've had a long hard time before I came here. Filled with innumerable joys and sorrows, angers and calms, lovers and enemies. I'll live a bit longer." A smile bloomed on his face. "Besides, if what this small pink creature has told me is true, a party would bring me great joy."

Twilight stared at him. "I guess that I can allow a party. Just so long as you allow me to pick your brain about what happened to you," she stared off into the distance. "and your civilization."

"Certainly Miss Sparkle, I'll tell you about the issues that I am incredibly sensitive about, and I'll also tell you about that world that I lived in before now." The pink pony laughed before suddenly becoming incredibly serious, a scowl spread across her features, and she glared at Twilight. The dwarf considered intervening in this obvious fight, but realized that the fight between the two would be more interesting than anything that he foresaw happening otherwise.

"Twilight, how can you not see that he doesn't want to talk about his civilization, family, and world?"

"I'll be nice about it Pinkie. If what he said is true, then he is the last bastion of his culture, world, and, indeed, species, I _need_ to write it down, his history is no less valuable than ours."

"If I can interrupt, I can accept that, just so long as I get a drink. Preferably with alcohol."

"I guess that's not too much to ask." Twilight said, rolling her eyes.

"What? Do you have something against booze?"

"No… Well… maybe… kinda…" Conflicted, Twilight attempted to balance her open-mindedness with her dislike for mind-altering drugs.

"Let me explain what you are trying to say, Miss Sparkle, you don't like to drink alcohol because it impairs your ability to think clearly, but other than that, you have no specific objection to it."

"I guess." The unicorn shrugged. "Do I really have to drink?"

"Common enough excuse, perfectly valid reason to avoid alcohol, but where I come from" The dwarf smiled and put his leg up on the unmentioned chair that he had been sitting on, "it is more commonly used by humans who realize that they can't handle the same kind of alcohol intake as a dwarf."

"Yeah, don't try to start a drinking contest with Applejack."

"Is that the name of a pony, or the alcohol itself?"

"Applejack is the element of Honesty, she also happens to be the local apple farmer, and naturally, the cider producer of the town."

"I'm sure that she's honest enough." The dwarf laughed, "But she does realize that she is named after an alcoholic beverage, right?"

"All I've ever had was cider... "The unicorn shrugged.

"Gah! How can you ponies live without an endless variety of booze, all of which has virtually the same effect?" Mock horror dripped from the voice of the dwarf.

The pink pony walked out with the unicorn. "It always helps when the booze is actually good."

Tholumom thought about this for a second; then shrugged. _"Where I'm from, that never really mattered."_

He followed the two out from the kitchen.


	5. Everfree

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been content recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has eaten a decent omelet recently. He has had an excellent drink recently. He has had the satisfaction of learning what an animal trap does.

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work. He is not self-conscious. He is reserved.

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

When he is angry, his hands clench into fists. When worried, he tends to use threats often.

His nose is broken.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

* * *

The dwarf returned to the library, feeling exerted after his twofold labor on that day. That Applejack, that one single pony had forced him to work harder than the final confrontation with the demons of hell. He opened up the door, barely able to concentrate, but happy to have succeeded in travelling this far in such duress. The inside was dark, an unexpected treat, "Wow, just like home in the fortress. Poorly lit as always. Come on, turn on the lights you ponies."

A groan emanated from the darkness. "Party pooper." The lights turned on, revealing Pinkie Pie's disgusted expression. "Come on Tholumom Lathonudlerned, Deep Dark, you ruined the surprise, but you didn't ruin the party."

The dwarf smiled at her. "But, my dear, we have only just begun our celebration of a new life and a triumph against death. I can hardly ask for the pleasure of being surprised in addition to that. I'm sorry about that, but I don't like surprises. Not to men-"

The dwarf recoiled as he found a slice of cake shoved into his mouth. "Come on, enjoy the party. You've had enough work shoved upon you by AJ."

The dwarf considered the possibilities of what was occurring, but realized that the cake shoved into his mouth was probably meant to stop him from protesting, rather than asphyxiate him.

The entirety of Ponyville had gathered in the library to greet the dwarf. Not surprisingly, it was a little bit more cramped than it usually was. All of Ponyville's party goers were in the library, it was a small town, by any measure except perhaps for the dwarf's own settlement at first. The memory of that was shrouded by the cider, the exhaustion, and the piece of cake that the dwarf chewed slowly.

Like a sea before a goblin demonic leader, the party split in two, letting a single pony pass. A strange, bright unicorn, minty green, her eyes wide, and a strange wide smile on her face. She passed through the crowd. "Can I talk to you, Tholumom?"

The dwarf lifted his eyebrow at her seriously, "Where did you learn my name?"

She gestured towards a party banner that he had not noticed before. "Okay then, I can see that you have something to talk with me about."

"Yeah... I kind of said that, directly." the dwarf looked thoughtfully at the young mare, though he was not entirely sure how he recognized her as being young..

"Good, because asking indirectly would be strange. "

"Can I talk to you alone?"

"Sure miss?" The young mare led the dwarf to the empty kitchen.

"Lyra." she said her name shaking her flank towards him, exposing a lyre cutie mark. The dwarf was not impressed.

"Was that supposed to arouse me?" The dwarf's face was unamused, suddenly. His eyes looked down into the Unicorn's, startling her with their hardness.

The mint unicorn cringed at the question. "No, not consciously, at least."

The dwarf placed his hands behind his head and yawned. "What was it that you wanted to talk about with me?"

"I wanted first to extend my greetings," the unicorn stood up on two legs, concentrating on her hooves, her horn glowed, and the dwarf's eyes went wide. "Dear Armok! You can stand on two legs! I've never seen such a thing as that!"

"What?"

"You can stand on two legs! That's impressive." The dwarf patted the mint green abomination on her head. "You should show this to the others! I'm sure they would like it!"

The Unicorn's face soured. "You haven't seen what I can do yet!" her voice was nearly full of desperation.

"What is that then?"

"I can turn my hooves into hands!"

the dwarf looked down at the unicorn's forelegs, finding that they did indeed end with hands. "That's marginally less impressive."

"Can you at least give me the courtesy of shaking hands with me?"

"What? That's not how we greet each other where I'm from."

"Show me then."

The dwarf grabbed the unicorn's hand and curled it into a ball, then hit it with his own knuckles. "That's how you do it in the mountainhome." The unicorn was stunned. "Are you okay Lyra?"

"That's what we do..." The mint green unicorn whispered softly, as though in despair.

"Did you have any other questions?"

Lyra stared off into the distance, an impressive feat considering that she was in a small kitchen inside of a tree. She suddenly snapped out of her daze when the dwarf began to wave his hand in front of her face. "Have you met any humans?"

The dwarf had met a few. None that had found him of any interest, neither being very wealthy nor the broker of his fortress, he had very little time to talk to them. "I've met a few. Were you looking to have a greeting as a human would have it?"

"Yeah." Lyra looked sheepish and began to fiddle with something on the ground with her legs.

"What could possess you to learn about them? They weren't that interesting. They had very little that we did not, we had more then them in general, and we were smarter, stronger, and a little bit faster. None of that affects the fact that they dominated the peaceful plains of our world, which added up to quite a large amount of land."

"What made them humans?"

"They were slightly more lithe than us, taller, not so thin as the Elves, they were decent with tools, but when they could just get a caravan together and head to our civilization, they tended to trade with us rather than learn the artisanship themselves. They were decent traders, and they rarely sold you out to the goblins they noticed around your fortress. Overall, I heard that they were relatively decent creatures. They kept a culture based around servitude of the rich, who would pay for soldiers and guards to defend your village in exchange for some fraction of your crops. What mystifies me is what a nice mare like you could find interesting about those humans, they had little time for music, my dear lyre player, they were more interested in the wealth that they could achieve, than what they could bring by spending it."

"They didn't like music?"

"They traded instruments, but never did I see a guard, merchant, nor any other human that came to our fortress play upon any of their instruments." The dwarf cringed at the hands that the unicorn had given herself, they would be large on a seven foot tall ogre. "But to your interest, let me shake your hand, in order to avoid being strangled by them."

"What do you mean strangled by them?" the dwarf leaned down to her forelegs, measured them.

"You have given yourself hands that are twice as large as is the typical proportion in an average human or dwarf"

"I- I thought that having large hands was a good thing."

"Perhaps, but the fact that they don't fit your body is too disturbing to make that any better. You should reduce the size, trust me, unless you are a mechanic, long hands such as that will get you nowhere. Though I'm surprised that Twilight has never experimented with that transformation, she seems like she would be interested, if only for the concept." The dwarf toyed with the idea of introducing it to her, perhaps on his own. Lyra was either too shy to do so herself, or had a reason to keep her hand spell hidden.

"They would think I was weird if I told them what I know." Lyra's eyes were tearing up, fortunately, she had gotten rid of her hands, so the dwarf wasn't so afraid to hug her, not that he did.

"Now Lyra, I'm curious if my humans and your humans are the same. You probably have some research material, you seem like a smart filly, or mare, or whatever the age-gender specific word is for you, otherwise your own opinion would have been eliminated by the ceaseless destruction of your beliefs as a child. I'm sure that you have gone through the constant and mechanical refinement and quality assertion process that is youth." The Dwarf looked away, staring off into space, perhaps recalling some half-remembered insult that a friend once hurled at him for questioning whether or not the Elves deserved what the dwarves gave them.

"You went through that too as a colt too, didn't you?"

"Nah, I went through it as a boy." The dwarf was not aware that colt and boy were virtually the same in meaning when applied to this context.

"What would you do then, if you were in my situation?"

"Lyra was quite involved at this point, drawn in to the deception that is the dwarven thought, but in this case, it was truth." a deep voice boomed through the kitchen.

"Shut up pinkie!" Lyra yelled.

"Sorry." The reply crept in from beyond the kitchen.

"That's odd, she was wrong there." The dwarf was naturally confused. The dwarven mind is commonly known to have relatively little natural inclination towards deception. In fact, it takes training to make a dwarf a good liar, which means that no dwarf who lies is a bad liar. Either way, Pinkie Pie had failed in her normal omniscient presentation of facts that she could not possibly know.

"I'd be willing to show you my research materials at some point." Lyra smiled at the dwarf, pleased that she finally found a good fellow to have a discussion about humanity with. the dwarf smiled, "I'm sure that at some point in the next three months, I can find time to work with you on your quest." The smile of the dwarf was warm, but also showed its size, enormous, odd because the size of the head was not any larger than what would be expected. Lyra thought about the implications of such a large mouth, so large that a scootaloo might fit inside, which as she thought immediately afterwards, was a strange way to formulate a comparison of size in the first place.

The dwarf rejoined the party, leaving the unicorn alone in the kitchen, pondering the possibilities that the dwarf could open up for her. After a few minutes of thinking, she wandered back to the party.

* * *

"What do you mean that manticore venom isn't valuable?" The dwarf looked down at the small vial of bodily fluid which he had bashed out of a manticore, it should be worth something. After all, he had beaten a dangerous creature to death to obtain it, right? The hut in the woods was small, with a single room with a cauldron in it. Perhaps Tholumom thought, Zecora was one of those alchemist thingies which could refine poison into something worth more than its weight in gold.

"That fluid in your hand, which of payment you do demand, is not venom." The zebra sighed. "You don't seem to understand, of what prices you demand, there are better ways to earth your wealth, certainly without risking your health."

"I'm sorry, I guess that I'm not a butcher by profession." Tholumon smashed the vial on the rim of Zecora's cauldron.

"You silly little thing! Be cautious of what you swing. Else you'll end in tears, perhaps greater than your only fears." Zecora grasped for words, but by the relative lack of meaning in her second line of her couplet, she was running out of things to say.

"What was that then?"

"How can you be so unobservant? Ack! you know no more than a brain dead rodent!" The caudron had begun to bubble in the last minute or so while the dwarf was busy not noticing the cauldron's boiling. A large eye coalesced out of the boiling cauldron. It glanced around, locking on to the dwarf. When Tholumom noticed that, he paused, considering whether or not he should say hello.

"Hello, floating eye thing." The eye blinked. "You must be deaf."

**(If the cauldron's eye is not read as Plankton, then you are doing it wrong)**

"No you damnable dwarf. I do not accept greetings from a lowly life form as yourself."

The dwarf drummed on the rim of the cauldron, amused. "Aye, but you did respond. Also I happen to be your creator, so if anything, I'm the superior creature."

"You are a mockery of a biologist. You dropped a flask of urine into this cauldron, you pitiful fool. You couldn't possibly have any idea that a simple flask of urine would result in my creation."

"Of course I did. All dwarven alchemists are trained purposely to create contemptuous creatures inside of random cauldrons with whatever they have handy."

"You're lying."

"Yes. Because Dwarven Alchemists don't exist." The dwarf laughed.

"So I'm not superior?" The cauldron bubbled, furrowing its single eyebrow.

"No, my cauldronite, you're not, perhaps you should stop existing."

"I believe that you are correct." The cauldron seemed resolved in its tone.

The eye in the cauldron disappeared in a puff of logic taking the cauldron with it.

"Of such a cauldron you have broke, never should I have spoke."

"I owe you something too, don't I?"

"Yes my minion for the week, do not fear for it shall not be bleak."

"I don't suppose that you would like a system of catacombs underneath your house for whatever you might need a system of catacombs for?"

"I have no need for caves my friend, instead there is something you must rend. Beware its teeth its flashing eyes, for in the darkness they surprise."

"That sounds like fun."

"Fun it may be, but it will be harder than bucking a tree."

"What is it that you want me to... rend?"

"A manticore, no more."

"Sure."

"Do you ask anything of me?"

"Not really. You should tell me where it is, but beyond that, I can handle it."

"And of those ingredients that I will ask of you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, it would make a nasty stew."

"You should probably tell me about those too." The dwarf sighed, sitting down on the floor, next to the cauldron's stand. He could expect an earful.


	6. Manticore

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been content recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has eaten a decent omelet recently. He has had an excellent drink recently. He has had the satisfaction of learning what an animal trap does. He has enjoyed combat recently.

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work. He is not self-conscious. He is reserved.

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

When he is angry, his hands clench into fists. When worried, he tends to use threats.

His nose is broken.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

* * *

The dwarf stumbled into the basement of Zecora's treehouse. It was impossibly large; leading him to believe that it had to be a natural cave system that the zebra had tried to convert into a safe basement. His torch burned slowly on his helmet, to which it was fastened.

The light could barely penetrate a few meters into the gloom before it was snuffed out by the fog that precipitated from the bottom of the forest's floor. There was the sound of rushing water nearby.

The dwarf frowned. Zecora should not have tried to convert this cave to a basement, it was still very active in terms of animal life, in fact, it was worse than his own fortress' attempt to turn their cave into a safe place. This cave was tainted, it was in a biome that was savage, the fog itself smelled of half decayed corpses. The dwarf considered Zecora for a moment, wondering if she was a witch, he brushed the idea aside, Zecora didn't have enough books to be a proper necromancer.

The manticore in here was more than a normal manticore, it had to be undead. Anything that died in this cave would be brought back as a zombie in time. Those zombies would only cause the dwarf suffering. He could back out, but that would be an insult to his own honor, not to mention the honor of the ever-dubious Umbral Dyes. He sighed, this would be a bad job.

* * *

The manticore screeched. It was not undead, the smell of rotting corpses was in fact from rotting corpses, not the necromantic magic that the dwarf expected. He could not say that he was relieved about the lack of undead manticores though.

The beast was as tall as most of the structures in Ponyville. Faced with a monster the size of a house, the dwarf was not particularly intimidated. The forgotten beasts of his world were far more toxic and evil than this thing, even with its scorpion tail and rather awful breath. Of course, he thought, the knowledge that his race had defeated greater horrors gave him no advantage in the fight that he was about to take part in. He felt his mind slip away, the burdensome thoughts of the normal day evaporated under the pressure of imminent combat. His hands rippled across the weapon, finding the right place to hold the hammer. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He opened his eyes, sucking in the darkness, he saw every detail he needed for the fight, no more.

He tightened the grip, closed his eyes, and let his cerebral cortex do what it did best: move. Left arm extend, angle upwards, apply counter force on torso. Legs retract, bear load, lean forward, legs extend. Calculate distance, leverage right arm, left arm down. Bear load, adjust legs, prepare legs for landing.

The creature screamed, but his memory captured it without context. His eyes saw the blood spew from the arteries of the beast, but never assigned any other sense to go with them. The blood formed the shape of a spear impacting the creature as it sprayed out. The scream formed a horror that could taunt the dwarf at any time without trigger, as it had no context. The vision of the creature's eyes glazing over as the last of the blood emptied out, the almost soulful stare, as though it had simply asked the dwarf _why_. Without context, the images of the manticore attempting to inflict wounds on the dwarf could not be held to be images of the same manticore that died, examining him as though he had committed a sin.

Death in this world, well, it bothered him. Back in the Ideas of Mourning, death was constant, expected(even if it was not welcomed), but here, the notion that death was just as constant plagued him. He had killed the other manticore, without the same moral crisis, without the same feeling of wrongness, but now, the contractual killing seemed something that should be abhorrent. The sensation was alien to him. There was noone else here to hold him up, to glorify his kill, which had been a product of a simple mistake, who would know that manticore urine mixed with mystery Zecora potion would end with the cauldron disappearing?

It was his fault that he ended up killing this relatively innocent predator, which, despite his own omnivorous pride, he knew would end up hunting the more troublesome, smaller predators that might otherwise come to live in Zecora's basement, and that he could not protect her from the wrath of the smaller predators as well as this very large one. He sighed, the basement was sketchy enough, now all that he needed to do before he would leave was to remove the liver, spleen, and venom gland of the manticore. Grudgingly, he removed the diagram showing where the various organs were from his pocket, Zecora really did want something more than manticore urine this time around. The dwarf pulled out a knife, beginning the grisly process.

He was still no butcher, cutting into organs that he would have wanted to avoid, namely the colon, the appendix, and the gizzard. How he managed to do this was beyond his own powers of failure-mode description. Each time, a new and terrible scent wafted out, distinct from blood, and each other.

The Colon was unpleasant, but the smell of the appendix had an unsavory sweetness to it, maybe the ponies really did feed cupcakes to their animals, as the yellow pegasus said. That, of course, was silly, nobody in their right minds would bother taking care of the animals without a reason to do so. The gizzard popped, spewing the scent of rotting meat into the air. The dwarf grimaced, this was taking a lot longer than expected.

The dwarf did obtain the organs that he was tasked with, eventually. The liver, spleen, and venom glands weighed him down as he returned, listlessly to the treehouse where Zecora eagerly awaited his return, or he hoped that she did. It would be cruel to kill a creature that, for once, had no desire to consume his flesh as its next meal, especially one that was a bit beyond the culinary tastes of the dwarf, or a common human, goblin, or even Elf. Perhaps if the dwarf put some spices on it and called it _Goblin..._

The dwarf halted the thought with a strong disgust, he was already outside the tree, its windows glowing their ethereal shades of blue or green, or purple, but never yellow. He entered, the zebra was doing something or other, but Tholumom could barely focus on the area around him. In his deep thought, his eyes focused on one point, his brows furrowed, as though to help his concentration. When Zecora looked at the dwarf, she could have sworn that some kind of mountain was growing out of his head.

"What seems to have happened..." Zecora did a short imitation of the dwarf himself, before continuing without a rhyme. "Are you okay? It certainly seems that you have not enjoyed what you said would be like play."

"Why? Why Zecora, why did I have to kill that manticore?"

"So killing is not in your nature?"

The dwarf glared at her. "I was never like those kids at home. They were always talking about the 'day when they'd get their first kill'. They were mad. I preferred to avoid violence, I think that I've forgotten about it until now. Those... Whatever."

Zecora believed that the dwarf should have been crying by now, "So you are not okay?"

* * *

The dwarf could barely walk, so as his race often did, when confronted with a philosophical dilemma, he sulked back to the library. The pouch full of bits that a guilty Zecora had given him jingled on his belt. He had gone into the Martial Trance before, hadn't he? Tholumom's nights as a child were often filled with stories of the warriors who came out of the Martial Trance victorious, wise, and powerful.

The dwarf had gone into the martial trance before. First during the Goblin Siege that resulted in the death of his wife, then during the fight against the soulless demons that haunted the bowels of the world. The first time, obviously, he had fought for himself alone; that was the function of the Martial Trance, its curse. It saved the life of an individual, but in that state, nobody could care for anything but themselves. And in this selfish adaptation of biology, the savior of the adventurer as it might be, it was beginning to take on a character that called to question the ancient reasonings of the dwarves.

If he was not a dwarf in his reasoning, what could he be? He didn't worship demons, so he couldn't be a Goblin; he did not eat the corpses of his enemies, so he would stand out as an elf; there were too many idiosyncrasies that made humanity an implausible option. No, Dwarves were relatively accepting of beings until they tried to kill them, unfortunately, the assumption that an unknown being was not in fact trying to hug you when it started walking towards any given dwarf was foreign to most of the surviving species as a whole. Was it his fault that he fell back on the evolution proven assumption of hostility. Could nature be blamed when the creature accused, the committer of a heinous injustice towards a relatively innocent party.

Eventually, The dwarf gave up on the thought. There was little that could be gained by self reflection when there was no word for what his words brought him too, except perhaps for guilt. But the dwarf wondered, what could that mean? Was it a guilt about the manticore's unnecessary death? The mercenary career that he had committed himself to without forethought? Or was the guilt spawned by his betrayal of beliefs? The dwarf shook his head, those were not issues that any being before him, after him, or even his peers could answer. The feeling he felt now was not congruent with the self-loathing aspects of his species, it was not the dreaded melancholy, which would invariably lead to his death by self-inflicted drowning.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shady pair of pegasi looking generally shady, if the dwarf wasn't certain that they were only imitating the fashion of sneaking that goblins employ, he would be worried, they were doing such an awful job of sneaking, that, in fact, it was clear that they were trying to go for, what was it that the stupid human teenagers said, "Swag"? He would have written them off as ponies pretending to be pickpockets if it was not for the suits that they wore.

Oddly enough, their sneaky-esque posture did not provoke the traditional Dwarven Response. Instead, he was intrigued by the fact that they had been following him, especially after he had entered the Library.

"Spiike! Would you mind preparing three of any particular type of drink which you are able to prepare?" The dwarf shouted.

"Does that mean coffee or-" The reply flowed out from the kitchen, carrying the dragon's sense of bravado, clearing exposing Spike's confidence about his ability to prepare sub-standard drinks for anypony that was around.

"Whatever it is, it will do. We have some guests."

"Did Twilight say that you could boss me around however you like?"

"Yeah Spike. She did say that you were as much my slave as her's."

"I'm not her slave. What would give you-"

"Really? You do the housework, your catalogue the library, with the help of your overseer, you cook, you take letters and notes for her. You were taken care of by her after being snatched by Twilight at some point in the past-"

"Okay-Okay! When you put it that way my life makes a lot more sense. Does that explain why I love Twilight?"

"Stockloam syndrome." The dwarf felt no need to continue his explanation after that awful reference.

"What?"

"Nevermind dragon! Make me some variety of foul herbal concoction to make your masters cringe."

"O-Okay..." Spike trailed off, backing off into the sink, where he was told to clean dishes by his mistress, uncertain of how seriously to take the new realization that he was essentially acting as a slave.

The dwarf sat down at a table near the door. "So, do you ponies want to talk to me, or steal my children?"

One of the pegasi glanced over towards the dwarf, "We aren't here for you. We are here to bring Miss Sparkle to an urgent meeting with Princess Celestia." The pegasus stifled a smile at the strange creature, professionalism was apparently important, even when dealing with a relatively immature creature of unknown genus, species, or income range.

"Why were you following me around then?" The dwarf had seen the way that they skulked around, it was rude for any person to come in another person's house, but government agents could not enter anyone's house without some reason, or at least a strong familiarity.

"We weren't, just because you happen to be staying here for a small amount of time, does not make you our quarry."

"Okay then." The dwarf, despite his belief that the pegasi was lying, felt left out of the loop all of the sudden. It was odd enough that these government agents were not interested in an alien(who has been defeating beasts behind the border of the country), but they were interested in some kind of magical-savant-egghead with a horn and purple(or as she would refer to herself as "Lavender") colored pony with no appreciable talent for anything beyond a temporary suspension of the physical laws of the universe.

What could she do that he couldn't? Other than the whole magic thing, nothing, maybe she can process grass in her digestive process, and she was purple, maybe lavender, either way she had a far cooler color scheme than his own pale skin with brown hair, brown eyes, and other relatively normal humanoid color schemes. Maybe she was a more interesting character, but why should that stop him? He knows that he can swing an warhammer, with extreme prejudice, occasionally even without any kind of prejudice. He knows that he is a not only a decent miner, but one of the best, probably better than that skill that Rarity probably keeps in a closet, trying to avoid(one whose special talent involves gems does not simply go around making dresses without them).

The other pegasus which the dwarf had failed to notice when he climbed up the stairs, returned with the purple pony in question. "So, Stalky Cloud, how has your family been doing?"

"Sean has been doing fairly well at his school, but I'm a bit concerned with Polly."

"Really? I thought that girl was too nice to get into any kind of trouble, what kind of trouble is it anyway?"

"She's gotten into parrots."

"Yeah, but unfortunately the birds that we see around the Canterlot-Cloudsdale suburb are not known for their cleanliness. There's been some bad cases of Southern Flu around there recently. I'm not willing to let her risk that infection, she could be out of school for weeks."

"I'll see if I can't get Zecora to whip up something to help with that, Stalky. I'm sure that she'll be okay."

"I know Twily, but I can't put the thought aside, you know as a father."

"Come on Stalky, let your kid explore a bit, otherwise she might just join the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and we both know how that would work out for Ponyville."

They both shared a long laugh. Tholumom's jaws and eyes were open as wide as possible. How could Twilight have such a good relationship with a sketchy government agent.

Stalky looked back at him, glaring, "We didn't come for you, but you _are_ coming along."

"Oh. Okay."

And so the dwarf's self-confidence and sense of self importance was suddenly restored.


	7. Stars and Sun

Tholumom Lathonudlerned has been content recently. He has mourned for the loss of loved ones recently. He has eaten a decent omelet recently. He has had an excellent drink recently. He has had the satisfaction of learning what an animal trap does. He has felt guilt for his part in ending life recently. He has received pay recently. He has felt left out of the loop recently.

He is slow to anger, but often feels depressed. He is not particularly sociable. He cannot find happiness in his work

He has a wonderful kinesthetic sense. He is very strong. He possesses an incredible endurance. He recovers quickly from sickness and injury.

His eyes are brown, his hair is brown, his skin is pale.

He has begun to wonder whether all this death is worth it.

* * *

There are few ways to make a dwarf more uncomfortable than placing him in a carriage flying through the sky. The fact that it was flying was almost as unnatural to the brown haired charleton as the fact that it was a _carriage_, it was even stranger and less useful than those wagons that merchants of all civilizations used to carry large amounts of useless trinkets that apparently had a use "Just past the next town over" perpetually denying any use.

Then again, rock mugs were an effective way of making a large number of worthless projectiles perfect for defending against a goblin horde, nobody used them for drinking because rock, as it turns out, tends to be a bad material for making waterproof containers out of.

The dwarf was ripped away from the relatively mundane and uninteresting thoughts about the idiosyncrasies of his world's economy by the sudden invasion of the results of turbulence into his inner ears. Then his breathing was interrupted by the sudden reflex that every living thing that does not fly has to such extreme turbulence, he threw up.

Twilight watched the dwarven spectacle with a mixture of disgust and horror, really a fitting mixture giving the retching sounds that could probably be heard on the ground. It would be fortunate if the sound of the dwarf's pained moans and splatters didn't cause the pegasi pulling the sky carriage to get sick as well.

"Are you okay Tholumom Lathonudlerned?" The unicorn struggled to say the name, but managed in the end. "Your name is really, really long. Is there anything shorter that I can call you by?"

The dwarf finished emptying the imaginary contents of his stomach onto the floor of the carriage, and sat back on the bench. "You can call me Thol if you want." He paused, thinking about something pertaining to his situation, Twilight observed. "What do you think that the princess wants anyway? I hope that she hasn't called me up because she thinks that I've been shoplifting."

"I doubt that, even though I've seen you stealing from various food stalls, I doubt that Celestia would care enough, especially since you had no money in the first place."

"That never stopped the hammerer." The dwarf mumbled to himself. The dwarf perceived Twilight's confusion at the mention of the Hammerer, but chose to keep silent, ignoring her curiosity.

A heavy cloud cover loured over the castle that was affixed to a mountain in a manner that was familiar to the dwarf. Certainly the rulers could not be so bad if they had a proper appreciation for the beauty that a building defying gravity, hugging the side of a mountain, allowing its occupants to look out over the land they possessed, then what judgement could he find being from another culture that appreciated the same style of building, be it a bit less, decadent.

The gleaming gold on the castle seemed to amplify the reflected lightning as the carriage passed underneath the thunderstorm. The prospect of thunder was not enticing to the dwarf, especially seeing that he was, in fact, hurtling through the air at around thirty seven world tiles an hour, not that a tile is a good unit of measurement for distance, but that did not occur to the dwarf as the twenty-million-urist lightning bolt struck the ground beneath the carriage.

Twilight shrugged. This storm was perfectly safe, its lightning was meticulously planned, or at least that's what Celestia told her when she refused to come out from underneath her bed for three days as a filly. Of course, now that she knew Rainbow Dash, maybe she should return to the safety underneath her bed.

The carriage landed safely. Somehow. The dwarf was presented, upon leaving the carriage, with a sight of a large white horse that seemed to be a few colors short of a rainbow. The dwarf thought of a rainbow, bringing to mind the fact that he had not yet met Rainbow Dash, whose collusive antics with Pinkie Pie had made the dwarf slightly interested, but far more wary of the supposedly multi-colored pegasus. Of course, this thought was interrupted by the simultaneous occurrence of a sudden sheet of rain, and a large lightning bolt striking the Alicorn.

The dwarf's mouth hung open as the lightning seemed to draw out the strike, as if to pain the creature which it maimed. The creature dispelled the lightning bolt, breaking the arc. The creature smiled at the dwarf, its pale magenta eyes examining him kindly. Tholumom, however, had a different reaction to such a demonstration of power. Namely sliding underneath the carriage, hiding from the god-creature. Perhaps it was just another goblin ploy? Their law-giver demons were the only creatures which ruled any civilization which could withstand such a blow from the lightning.

Meanwhile somewhere else...

"Hey Dashie I was going through Twilight's stuff and found this stick thingy and I thought that only Rainbow Dash could know what it was so I went looking for you all over Ponyville and I got tired so I ate a cupcake and it was good and then I found you so I decided I would ask what you think this thingy is?" A pink pony asks, pointing to a stick topped with a crescent moon of iron which she had materialized with behind Rainbow Dash.

"What do I look like, some kind of egghead?" Rainbow Dash made an attempt to hide the box with 'swag' written on it crudely.

"I bet that it has something to do with farming or mining." The pink pony mused examining the pick with her eye telescoping towards the tip of the pick. Her tail twitched five and a half times, "Hmm... Somepony will use four periods instead of three in his ellipsis."

"Naah. That couldn't be. It seems to be a bit too awesome for either of those." The Rainbow pegasus ignored the latter part of the comment; a pink grammar checker was of no use to the surprisingly athletic egghead.

Back at the castle...

The large white creature lowered her head to look underneath the carriage, get a better look at the strange dwarf which was hiding there at the moment. The dwarf retreated a bit further back into the carriage, avoiding the large white Goblin-Law-Giver-Horse thing which had absorbed a lightning bolt with no trouble. He could not best something such as that in normal combat, or in any given combat, no matter how abnormal the combat could be.

Tholumom Lathonudlerned is deathly afraid of Alicorns

"Come on out Tholumom. Please. I only want to talk to you about your world. Or, more specifically, how you got here." The white Alicorn that Tholumom did not know the name of used a genuinely concerned tone, perhaps she did care for the dwarf a bit.

What did that matter? She was obviously a Goblin-Law-Giver! Tholumom knew that there was no way that such a creature could care for such a lowly being as himself.

"Stay away Demon! I'll gut you if you come closer!" The dwarf desperately yelled at the creature, praying, for the first time in his life, to the Everlasting Trout. The dwarf grabbed at where his axe should be, but found only an empty loop in his belt. "Dammit! the only time I actually need my warhammer, it's not even here!" He whispered frantically to himself as sheets of rain continued to pour down on the top of the castle landing strip.

Meanwhile in that other place...

"Hey Dashie, look at this hammer I just found while once again going through Twily's things."

"Pinkie, why are you going through Twilight's stuff again? Isn't that kind of breaking a friend's trust?"

"She never asked me to promise that I wouldn't go through her stuff when she isn't around."

"Okay... Wow, that hammer is pretty cool."

"I bet that Applejack could use that for repairing her barn. She'd be all like-" The pink pony began to go through the list of awesome actions that Applejack would do with this hammer, breaking boards into the correct lengths with a single swing of a hammer, forcing nails in so fast that the wood would explode, killing a few Timberwolves, turning them into the door of her new barn. Ironically, the last action, being the most difficult, was also the only one that the warhammer was meant to be used for.

Back at the castle...

After thirty or so minutes trying to plead with the dwarf to come out, bearing assurances that he would be fine, reassurances from Twilight that Celestia was a benign ruler, and not a demon, whatever that was, and generally trying to make the dwarf come out of his hiding spot under the carriage, Twilight was beginning to suffer from hypothermia from the rain, Celestia was getting bored, and the royal guards had facehoofed so many times that they were dazed.

"Okay, Tholumom, if you don't come out, I'm going to move the entire carriage off of you, and you will be apprehended by those royal guards, whose brains are now damaged due to your absurd antics." Celestia's voice was not filled with the same kindness as before, ponies were getting hurt trying to make the dwarf be reasonable.

"Never Demon!" The dwarf howled in desperate fury. It would have been intimidating if magic didn't exist, and two of what are arguably the most powerful magic users in the world on that rooftop were struck magic-less.

Glowing, the carriage began to rise above the dwarf. When it had cleared him entirely, Celestia threw the carriage off of the castle.

* * *

Blueblood's estate:

Blueblood surveyed his gardens carefully, they were beautiful in the rain. He felt at peace there, sitting under the roof of his new Gazebo, while sheets of rain came down upon his plants.

Behind him a crash sounded, he turned around to see his house with a new addition, a pegasus carriage stuck half-buried into his bedroom. He shrugged, he didn't have enough money to build that addition to his bedroom, the carriage would do just fine. Now to find those contractors which he had fired previously.

* * *

Once again, back at the castle...

"So, you aren't a demon?" The dwarf looked up to the flowing maned creature above him, which happened to, at this point, be glaring at him.

"No, I suppose that I am not a demon."

"Why didn't you say so?" Tholumom laughed. "Most creatures that can survive being struck by lightning tend to be dragons, amorphous elder-god horrors which exude gaseous poison from their pores and originate from the deepest pits of the earth, or, seeing as you are neither of those two, a demon. That theory seemed pretty good at the time because you are the ruler of the realm and the goblins of my world are also led by a demon, so it made sense at the time that it could, potentially, be the same here."

"I'm actually a bit more like an elder-god horror than anything else." Celestia let the line hang in the air for a moment; if she failed to capture this incredibly stupid and annoying creature's attention for very long, she would kick herself.

"What?" The dwarf was surprised causing Celestia to smile, he had fallen for her obvious lie.

"Come inside, my student seems to be in danger of dying from the cold." Celestia motioned towards a pale unicorn that sat shivering in the cold rain, glancing between Celestia and Tholumom drearily.

"That's never happened to a dwarf. Usually you have to freeze them entirely before they take serious damage." Tholumom studied Twilight where he stood, but did not bother helping her. Celestia looked at him for a moment, it was rather rude to allow somepony else to suffer while they were completely comfortable.

"Tholumom, don't you think that it's appropriate that you help Twilight? After all, you seem to be her friend."

"Yes... That sounds like a good idea actually." Tholumom grumbled, once again he was reduced to the level of a small child in the eyes of an elder, who looked down upon him with her knowledge and wisdom, and saw an error immediately in his actions. He cursed himself a bit, it made a lot of sense for him to help Twilight, so it was doubly insulting when Celestia reminded him of it.

"Sorry Twilight."

"It's okay." Twilight's teeth chattered, turning her three syllable sentence into a twenty syllable sentence.

"Come on, Tholumom, Twilight, let us go in." Celestia pushed a door open with her magic shortly followed by the mismatched duo.

* * *

Meanwhile in the Everfree Forest

The howl of the timberwolves reverberated in their woodwind fashion, an orange pony runs through the forest.

"Applebloom! Where are ya?" it frantically screamed, eyes darting left to right as she ran down the trail into the forest.

"Applejack! Help me!" The voice of a filly pierced the air, piercing the orange pony's heart with its shrillness. A howl from a wolf reverberated across the forest, chilling Applejack's bones.

The farmer ran to the Everfree, eyes wide with fear, her sister could soon enough be no more. A glint of steel shown down from the heavens, flies into a tree. A gleaming steel hammer sticks out of a knothole, threatening a family of owls.

Applejack did not have time to think about the owls, so she removed the hammer, it couldn't hurt, could it?

Applebloom had managed to climb up a tree, just in time to be surrounded by vicious wolves made out of wood. Naturally, this was a result of her endless quest for a cutie mark. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo had managed to escape the wolves, promising to bring somepony back to help her.

"Abblepoom! mm ging to sieve do!" The filly's sister ran into her line of sight, carrying a large hammer in her mouth. "Applejack, seems like a bad time to repair the gazebo, doesn't it?"

The pony swung the hammer at the wolves, denting them slightly, but not to the point where even fluttershy could accept their being hurt. Oh yeah, also Applejack injured her hind legs doing some kind of generic farm work that would sound out of place in an orchard, probably bucking ploughs.

Finally, the orange pony rolled a 20 on her hit check. Unfortunately, that lead to splinters flying out of the timberwolf, striking the others, which also happened to be the victims of other twenties, causing a massive thermo-timberwolf chain reaction, killing all of Ponyville in the explosion, especially Applebloom.

The pink pony finished telling her tale to the orange farmer. The sheer strangeness of such a story made it incredibly difficult to hold back laughter, or a far more probably uncomfortable silence.

"And that's what your life would be like if you had this hammer AJ." The rainbow maned pony was stunned. It wasn't everyday that Pinkie took a tool that they were examining, somehow brought them to Sweet Apple Acres, then explained exactly what would happen if Applejack started using the tool.

"Uh, Sugahcube, I don't quite know how to tell you this, but we aren't playing Ponies and Paladins, if I rolled a twenty in real life, there would be a useless die on the ground right near the wolves."

"Aren't you just a little bit concerned about the fact that your little sister was about to die in that story? You being the one who was responsible for her death."

Applejack shrugged. "It's not like Ah'd ever do anything like that in the first place. Applebloom knows her way around the forest, not to mention that her little group is more dangerous than the average pack of them timberwolves."

"Applejack! Stop ruining my campaign!" Pinkie's voice carried a conquering tone, assured by the natural confidence of laughter. Her voice carried the confidence of laughter, but lacked the triviality which she normally poured into her conversation.

The three of them found themselves in Applejack's barn, hunched over a table with several sets of die lying anemically beneath a layer of dust. "Now Rainbow Dash, it's your turn."

Rainbow Dash glanced uncomfortably at Applejack, who nodded at her. "I guess that I'll make a spot check."

* * *

Meanwhile in a room in a precariously perched castle on top of a mountain.

The room was tall. Almost six meters tall. A fireplace gently roared with a well contained heat. Revitalizing a lavender unicorn whose hypothermia was a cause for alarm. Near the fire, Twilight, Princess Celestia, and Tholumom sat at a relatively unadorned table, whose surface provided a firm resting place for a strangely shaped pot which would be virtually impossible to determine whether or not there was a similar one in orbit around the sun.

Tholumom was draped over a red and gold couch, nearly asleep. The other two talked about things that were normal for students and their teachers to discuss at length, such as the purpose of life, the meaning of harmony, and other perfectly boring subjects such as the origin of the Alicorns.

"So that's how Alicorns work?" Twilight was stunned. Who could have thought that it was so simple, just a single ritual away from godhood. "I mean, why aren't there more of you if it's that simple?"

"There's a good reason for that Twilight, but it seems that our guest has a few questions of his own." Princess Celestia turned towards the dwarf, who had been half asleep during her explanation of whatever an Alicorn is.

"Your Highness, I honestly can't imagine where you got that idea." Tholumom grumbled. Last time he had seen royalty was when the fortress found the adamantium vein. The upper echelon of nobility tended to move around following the adamantium, of course, that also meant that the fall of civilizations also tended to follow the discovery of adamantium. Anyway, this was still more interesting than that speech which the king had managed to spew for over five hours.

"Well, as a miner I'm sure that you'll be interested in the mineral deposits that exist around Equestria. Our country is famed for its unusually rich supply of magic gems and precious metal." The princess took a swig of her tea.

The dwarf sat up, making a check intentions check. Unfortunately, its hard to understand the expression on someone's face when only one of her eyes remains uncovered by a billowing mane. "Yes, that is a somewhat interesting subject, your Highness."

"Please, just call me, Your Royal Highness Princess Celestia." The casual manner which she said this in made it sound as though she was telling him that 'your Highness' is too formal. Too bad that her name and title just grew a few syllables.

"Okay Your Royal Highness Princess Celestia, what of the minerals and ore in the ground. I know that Canterlot is situated above a vast kimberlite and lamproite vein. In fact, I don't think that I've ever seen both simultaneously in the same vein. Not to mention the massive gems which Twilight has mentioned while in the throes of a nightmare."

"Why were you listening to me while I slept?" Twilight's tone became accusatory.

Tholumom rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry about that, it was a bit strange, wasn't it? Anyway, you remind me a bit of my daughter, she loved books too. She loved the stories of the past. She also loved learning how things worked. She was a brilliant child. And I couldn't save her." The dwarf sighed, but didn't continue.

"I'm sorry Tholumom." Celestia's tone became soothing. "Would you like to talk about her?"

"Yes. Actually I would."


	8. Daughter

"This is the story of how my daughter was born." Tholumom spoke in a quiet, calm, measured fashion, as though he was trying to make himself easier to listen to.

* * *

"Hey Tholumom!" The other miner shouted from across the room. The meeting hall was large and lively on this day, its polished stone gleaming in the half-hearted rays that made it through the entrance tunnel. Lanterns glowed in a friendly impotence, casting rings of light on the floor. Tholumom was talking to his wife, whose radiance was all he could be sworn to protect. Zustashmabdug had interrupted that. Tholumom motioned for him to come across the room. Zustash obliged him. "The boss has another section for us to mine out. He says that he wants you to start the preliminary digging."

Tholumom shuddered, the boss didn't request particular workers unless it was a job which carried dangers. "Is the digging dangerous?" Tholumom asked.

Zustash shrugged. "I don't know. The boss just had me notify you. If it helps, it's on the eastern side of the fortress"

"That's not too bad I suppose." Tholumom was not intimidated, the geology on the eastern side was made up of mostly igneous rock, strong stuff. "Will you be alright, my love?"

His wife nodded, "I might be pregnant, but that doesn't mean that you have to worry for me constantly. I'm a dwarf, we're built of stout stuff. Go off and take care of the bosses' work, I know you'll be okay."

He kissed his wife goodbye. then headed off to the eastern side of the fortress.

The eastern side of the fortress was used more as a storage space than a living or working space. As a result, the lanterns were dim, and the stone floors had never felt an engraver's touch, leaving them rough and ugly with the marks of the pickaxes that opened the cavity in the first place.

Tholumom squinted at the marked wall. Felt it with his hands, it was not quite the same feeling as the other walls. The area in the fortress is too dark to see, so he confines his tests to feeling the rock. The rock is not out of place enough to make him worry, so he begins his excavation process.

He has taken four hours to dig in five meters, he laughs as he thinks about how he must be a bit rusty, it should have taken him two hours. The work is not exhausting for him, he has done it all his life, and found it to be the best that he could ask for.

He gets another meter into the stone before breaking through to the other side. "That's not right." The dwarf pauses to get his bearings, the side of the mountain should be at least fifty meters away. He glances into the darkness, and hears the sound of rushing water. Dammit. Underground rivers. It is impossible for the dwarf to continue, digging, but that stops being the priority when a wet slapping noise begins to echo around the cavern. Tholumom knew at that point, that he had found carp.

* * *

"But carp aren't carnivores." Twilight mentioned exhausted by the absurd story.

"That doesn't mean that they can't drag you down into the depths of the river to drown."

"No, I'm pretty sure that carp don't do that."

"Anyway, I ran back to the center of the fortress, terrified. When I got there, I found that my wife had given birth to my daughter. A wonderful bundle which brought me happiness for the next nine years." The dwarf finally smiled, "She also motivated me to purge the fortress of the carp, so I lead a squad of soldiers to the river, this time we brought lanterns so we could see the damned creatures, and we slaughtered them." the dwarf paused for a moment. "Of course, they killed seven peasants, most of whom had been conscripted into the military beforehand, so it was a rather successful battle."

"Seven out of how many soldiers?" Twilight had produced a notepad again, somehow.

"I think that there were twelve soldiers that day, including me."

"How many carp were there?"

"three."

"So, for every kill, you lost three and a third soldiers?"

"Yeah."

"That's a terrible ratio! How can you even bother fighting when you're that bad at it?" Twilight's expression was of mathematically induced horror. Sort of like the expression that dwarves got when they calculated the chances of surviving to their twenties.

"Well... We can't really swim, and since the carp have this tendency to pull us into the water, if they succeed, we typically die." The dwarf shrugged, "just the way we live. Or something"

"Have you ever considered learning how to swim?" Twilight's tone became condescending, the princess shook her head at her student. Apparently if you weren't Prince Blueblood you couldn't get away with condescension of that kind of magnitude.

* * *

Meanwhile in Blueblood's estate

"Sir, your special diplomatic summary of the Crystal Kingdom has arrived today."

"But Preppy Heights, I thought I told you I wanted the Crystal Empire summary."

"Sir, I already explained that there is _no _Crystal Empire other than the one which is synonymous with the Crystal Kingdom."

"Preppy, I know that you went to some kind of school which had a population of forty-two and a strong association with sub-ivy league colleges, but I know more than you." The condescending moron placed his tea cup back onto the table inside the pegasus carriage which he had cleverly attached to his house by means of Crazy Glue.

"Absolutely sir, who am I to question the inner workings of a stallion whose brilliance caused him to use mayonnaise instead of Crazy Glue to fix a pegasus carriage which randomly crashed into his bedroom onto his house?" Preppy Heights felt, as did everypony who knew Blueblood, to shove him and his 'brilliant architectural masterwork' out of the window which it had replaced.

"Now you see my point." Preppy Heights rolled his eyes, he really couldn't remember how he got this job in the first place.

"Also look into a material I've heard of called Slade, I want a chandelier made out of it."

"Absolutely sir."

* * *

"Twilight, I know that you have a problem when things don't make sense, but you have a lot to think about."

"And now something bad is going to happen because you said that before the changeling invasion. Out of all the times you have said that, something terrible has happened."

"Come on Twilight, that's probably not going to happen. Anyway, we just don't like swimming, we can do it, but it practically takes a dwarf getting thrown into waist deep water to teach us." Twilight shoved a hoof into her head, making the dwarf wonder whether or not self-mutilation was a common theme here.

"Okay, Tholumom, there is also a more pressing matter at hand here, there is a volcano that is dangerously close to eruption, if my geologists are right at least. If what you've told Twilight is true, then your kind know how to deal with that, maybe even prevent it?"

Tholumom furrowed his brow in thought for a moment, was it really right to give up the treasured secrets of the state to these horses? "Well... I could build a long channel to direct the magma to a center of industry, which could use it to smelt ore without coal, or potentially, generate elarctracity, was it? without coal or a moving water source. It wouldn't prevent an eruption, but it could move enough magma out of the volcano to make it less dangerous when it happens."

Celestia raised an eyebrow at this idea. "Twilight, does that make any sense to you?"

Twilight shook her head, "I think it might work, but... What if it goes wrong? How many ponies could suffer?"

"Not more than a hundred." Tholumom yawned. "I don't see why other races see it as dangerous, it is safe if you know how to handle it. Just like that Elictracity thingy, right?"

"Tholumom, the word you are looking for is electricity."

* * *

"Applejack, it's your turn, three of the orcs are dead already, but there are two more left."

"Pinkie Pie, I can in fact listen to you narrate the story, I know."

"Come on Applejack, I really want to do something else, let's finish this battle so we can leave."

Pinkie Pie glared at Rainbow Dash, "You know I love you Dashie, but if you keep on ruining my campaign, then we'll have a problem."

Rainbow Dash shuddered at the thought.

"Okay, Ahm going to take out one of the orcs."

"Which one, the one with the bowtie, or the one without the bowtie?"

"Ah don't care."

"But if you don't care then what is there to care about?"

"Not Ponies and Paladins."

Pinkie Pie flipped the table that the trio was using, throwing the various roleplaying supplies to the floor of the barn. "Well then, I guess it's on to GURPS."

"What?" Applejack and Rainbow Dash chorused.

"Come on you guys, we haven't even wasted an hour playing PnP, why don't we try the other system?"

"I'd really like to do some... flying." Rainbow Dash glanced pleadingly at Applejack. "And I have to buck some Apple trees."

Pinkie glared at them. "You two are finishing one campaign with me."

* * *

"Why would we need to build forges in this manner in order to utilize the lava taken from the volcano?" Twilight's question caused Tholumom to think of the various humans that have asked the same question, of course, they never really tried hard enough to think about it.

"Lava's convection currents in the air are so hot that it is possible to seriously injure yourself just by standing near it. I would recommend that you use a fairly small aperture for whatever ducts you use to bring in the heat." Tholumom sighed, "Or you could build it like you suggested and find the corpses of twelve good ponies dessicated and burnt by the heat and flame."

Celestia glanced between them. "Tholumom, the reason that Twilight sees your process as flawed is due to our production methods taking place on a larger scale than you must have been accustomed to back on your world. I don't think that you understand the idea of a blast furnace, and while your species' method is fine for small scale, our smelting takes place at such a larger scale that the wages of the ponies which would be employed would outweigh the benefits of not needing an external fuel source."

Tholumom raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of tea from a flagon, drawing Twilight's attention to his strange choice of drinking vessels. "You sure do know a lot about industry for a princess whose very way of life is existentially separated from the practical applications of such." he took another sip from his strange choice of drink holder. "I really appreciate this mug, it doesn't even spill as much as ours."

"Thol, that's not a mug. That's our serving container."

"Oh, so that's why it seems perfectly sized. hmm." He finished the flagon and placed it back on the table. He grinned as he marvelled at how whatever drink they had given him had caused him to become drowsier, completely opposite to the revitalizing effect of alcohol.

"You can keep it Thol." Celestia's smile probably caused a windigo to "D'aww" as some say.

The dwarf's eyes lit up like Pinkie's in a candy shop, or any shop for that matter. "Really?" Celestia nodded. "I love you forever Princess Celestia." He clutched the flagon greedily in his arms, then hugged the royal Alicorn warmly. The mere sight of it could have caused Chrysalis' heart to grow three sizes that day, or possibly feed an entire army for a month, but what Chrysalis did with her food was outside the subjects which anyone in the room could possibly make a valid judgement about.

"I have a favor to ask then..."


End file.
